Beyond Reality
by Mopping-Sips
Summary: Set mid-Transformers Dark of the Moon... Honestly this story is quite a mysterious one, it really doesn't have a summary yet. Although there will be many original characters. Plus like the movies, there is a bit of mild language. Please read with caution, this story is written by a novice. (::


Beyond Reality

Chapter 1: Up in the Air

* * *

"Are you going to type until your fingers fuse to that keyboard?" questions a falsely dozing man staring intently at an oblivious woman with a laptop at hand. Said young woman jumps in her window seat and looks at him in surprise.

"I'm terribly sorry I woke you, sir." She leaves his inquiry unanswered. Smiling sheepishly she takes notice that he only has one eye open, emphasizing his recent awakening.

His blond brows rise in a curious manner and he asks, "You thought I was sleeping? And you still did all that noisy typing?"

"Yes, it's very inconsiderate of me, I do apologize. And since it bothers you I wish to offer a pair of earplugs. Or would you like to borrow my MP3 player? Because I am indeed going to type until my fingers fuse to my keyboard." She informed him bluntly, testing his strength in character.

Leaning forward from the aisle seat a different woman says, "There's a guy behind me humming Johnny Cash songs loudly… Could I use your earplugs?"

"Sure!" The window seated young woman replies laughingly, "I was wondering where those sad vibes were coming from."

"I know! Granted he has the soul for it, but the poor guy is tone deaf." The aisle woman says while waiting, avoiding the man in the middle's glare.

Finally after finding the correct pocket of her bag the young woman hands over a pair of earplugs to her fellow lady. She tells her, "They're new, I promise no ear wax. I carry them around for my mama. She can barely tolerate harsh sounds."

"What a good idea!" The aisle woman chuckles happily.

"Please keep them. I won't ever use them where I'm going," Insists the young woman.

"Why thank you, hon. I believe I will," the aisle woman smiles gratefully, leaning back into her seat.

The man in the middle scowled at the young woman, huffing at her, "You must be the most annoying fleshling on this planet."

"I highly doubt that, but nice otherworldly wording. I'm totally stealing that line." She grins, instantly typing it into her computer.

The man's eyes both open at that comment, their startlingly blue color making an impression on the young woman. Her fingers fly over the keys a few minutes more writing a quick description about him.

He growls at her.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop. Forgive me for wanting to remember such handsomeness for my villain that'll be swooned over in this story." She explains by pointing at the laptop screen and then asks, "So what's your problem? You've been tense ever since you sat down. Did you lose your bags?"

The man leans close and hisses in her ear, "I'm surrounded by aliens in a flight capable contraption running on a world-wide depleting energy source. The high statistics to plummeting to my holo's end and never getting off this ball of dirt is why I am tense. So my problem, fleshling, is you."

"Very well, I'll leave you alone." She says calmly, "I understand you, somewhat. Your interpretation of the world reminds me of mine that I had for a while. I thought that everyone was alienated too, and yeah, no one really cares we're wasting resources just to be faster. It's awful that we take these risks. Yet we humans do. So…"

"Fleshling," the man interrupts the young woman exasperatedly.

"What, fellow fleshling?" She sneers at him.

He tilts his head back and tells her, "Shut the frag up."

"Oh, no worries, the frag is up. The frag is far up your ass for you to deal with." She retorts as she saves the files on her laptop and puts it safely away in her bag. Rummaging a bit more she gets out her trusty Granny Smith apple green MP3. She then shoves her bag forward to its rightful place and sits back. Sticking her earbuds in with ease, she looks outside her current window. The twinkling lights below befit her first song's beat spectacularly, therefore she is all bliss. That is until an earbud magically pops out.

"What did I do now?" She sighs, turning to face the blond, stellar blue eyed man.

He asks with a melancholy look about him, "What is your name, fleshling?"

"Always," She answers freely, "Always Abigail Brionwell."

He touches a finger against her cheek, saying, "Always."

"Yes…?" She confirms, unable to ignore his loneliness.

Without a reply, he smirks sadly but keeps his touch. And when a slight vibration warms her skin where it meets his, the moment ends swiftly as he flickers away.

Always does not scream, for she has dreamt of wilder things. But suddenly seeing the aisle woman fast asleep, and an entire plane of clueless people, she cries. That blue eyed man's loneliness is imprinted on her cheek so she is crying for him. She looks out of her current window at the dark morning sky thinking,

_"He's gone now. That ass just disappeared._

_Wow, did that really happen? Was he even here? _

_They don't care, like he said they're all aliens. _

_I'm so insane. Home is so away._

_It's all up in the air..._

_It's all up in the air."_


End file.
